On the Way Down
by Andi Mack
Summary: Massey McHale is convinced that something tried to kill her and make it look like a suicide attempt. Unfortunately, no one else is buying it. When a strange meeting leads her to Silent Hill, will she finally get the proof she's looking for or much more?


_Oh, hai, thar. This is officially my first venture into a section of this site that's not Metal Gear. I **think** I know where this is going should I choose to continue it. If you kiddies bite and like it, I'll continue. If not, then I still may continue just not as anxiously. I hope you like it! - Andi_

* * *

I knew she had been standing over me a minute, waiting for my eyes to open. And though her sudden appearance upon waking up had almost scared me half crazy, I wouldn't let her have the satisfaction of hearing the gasp that had escaped me.

"What do you want, _Cass_?" I asked, bringing my hands behind my head to add to my faked relaxed state.

"Your first session with Dr. Tosh is today, _Mass_."

I glanced over at the clock. "It's eight in the morning. That appointment isn't until the afternoon."

"Mom said I can't leave you by yourself and I have things around town to do today. So, you have to come with me."

"Cruising around town with my little sister. Fun." I sat up and ran my hands over my head, reacquainting myself with my newly chopped short hair. Cassidy made a face in response.

"Why _did_ you cut it so short? You look like a boy. Mom thinks so too."

"Well, maybe I just couldn't stop myself after I had used the razor on my wrists." I immediately felt how tasteless that joke had been the moment it left my mouth and mumbled a quick 'sorry' behind it.

"Jesus, Massey. You know, it's talk like that that has you living back with mom again, going to a shrink."

"Like it's such a shock I'm going to a shrink. We both knew this day would come...just maybe not under these circumstances. Where is our mother anyway?"

"Work," she said, giving a few fast passes through her red hair with a brush at the mirror, "They needed her at the office today. She doesn't know when she'll be back so, she left money for dinner just in case."

"I miss my long office hours. I even miss my clients and the bottle of Excedrin I used to swallow around lunch time from dealing with them." I crashed back into my pillow. "I miss work."

"You'll be back to work soon enough, Mass." There was almost a string of sympathy in her voice that disappeared completely in her next breath. "God knows your constant whining is driving me and mom to see our own psychologists." She turned to me, "But right, you have to get dressed. I have things to do."

* * *

I sat in my sister's car while she ran in and out of different buildings, accomplishing her errands for the morning. A few times, she'd park in a lot and leave me with a stranger in the next vehicle over playing the same part I was for the day. The tagged along, the seat filler, the person brought for the ride for lack of a better activity for them. I felt twelve again, being dragged around with my mother against my own and insignificant will. The whole thing made me bitter and by the time Cassidy was jumping into the car after exiting her fourth mystery building to do whatever mystery activity she had to, she noticed but waited until we were clear of the traffic wars of downtown to say anything.

"I know this situation isn't ideal, Mass. But, you know why it has to be this way." She paused. I knew what was coming. "You kind of brought this on yourself."

Any other time, I'd give her the usual argument I did whenever she said something like that. I did it for a living and I had plenty proof that I was damn good at it. But in all truthfulness, my whole defense was beginning to lose credibility to even me and sound too silly to even entertain in thought anymore. Maybe there really were no such forces that could manipulate you into trying to kill yourself? Maybe I really just was unhappy with my life, though I still didn't know a good reason to be.

"You think if I'm a good girl and play by the therapist's rules that I can go back to work and move back into my apartment anytime this millennium?"

She laughed. "I think something can be worked out. You'll be back to yelling at judges and lying for money before you know it."

"I hope so." I moved my gaze out the window for a few seconds. We were turning into the shopping center with all the restaurants and all the art students. It brought an unwelcomed flow of memories to me, ones that I knew Cassidy and I didn't share of this place. She only knew it as a place to get lunch. I knew it as something deeper. "What do you think Maureen what have thought about all of this?"

She sighed into perfect silence but still tried to keep the smile on her face. "I think she would have kicked your butt up and down the state of Michigan before embracing you so tightly that you'd think she'd never let go." She swung the car into the exact same spot in front of Cantina's that, surprising enough, we always managed to get when we went there. We both sat in the car for a moment, even after she had killed the engine and we had both freed ourselves of the seatbelts. "She would have been so proud of you, Massey. Just like mom is. Just like I am."

I wanted to hug her but it was more in line with our relationship for me to punch her in the shoulder. So that's what I did. She knew what I meant.

* * *

It was 12:57pm when I walked into Dr. Deanna Tosh's office. I felt early to my own execution in a way, even if it was just by three minutes. Why was I in such a hurry to be told I was crazy? I headed to the woman behind the desk, mostly because the look she had given me from the moment of my arrival told me she was the gate keeper and that I'd have to pass through her before going any farther in. When I told her my name and appointment time, her face softened greatly, as if she had just verified my membership at some exclusive club.

"Looks like you're our first new patient of the month, Ms. McHale. And you're the Strickland Psychiatric Hospital referral, right?"

"Yep, that's me." Though I hadn't recalled seeing a single other soul besides hers upon walking in, acknowledging or talking about my three day stint in the nuthouse aloud made me cringe as if I was in front of an audience.

She failed to notice.

"We get a lot of new patients from Strickland, you know. I guess we've built sort of an unofficial partnership with them, almost. Most of the referrals from there who are treated by Dr. Tosh return back to doing things in their normal lives within a year or so. I guess what I'm trying to say is you don't have to worry about a thing, Ms. McHale. This is the beginning of a new you." She smiled at me, her own false sense of being helpful and easing my mind creating the thoughtful tilt of her head she added. She punched a button on the phone and leaned into it. "Dr. Tosh, your one o'clock is here."

**...**

Dr. Tosh wasn't anything like I had imagined her. In my imagination, she had always been a woman in her late 60s, perhaps early 70s with silver hair and a permanently fixed neutral expression on her face. The true life Dr. Tosh was years younger with an upper class distinction in her features. She was painfully plain—brown eyes, porcelain complexion, chestnut hair—but when she smiled, she hinted at a grace that I imagined had been acquired through ballet lessons and when she spoke, I could have sworn she was painting over a British accent.

"I guess you met Fiona, my desk clerk." She said, looking up from the folder in her hand just long enough to watch me sit in the chair across from her.

"Yeah, she was...nice."

"You don't have to be polite, Ms. McHale. Most people find her a little too...verbose, perhaps. On some days, even I wonder why I hired her. She used to be a patient of mine, you know."

_You mean I can be just like her after a year in your care? Where do I sign up!_

"Isn'tthere a patient/doctor confidentiality or something in place? I'm pretty sure you weren't supposed to tell me that."

"Technically, she's not my patient anymore. Besides, given a few minutes she would have divulged all her secrets to you herself." She flipped the last page in the folder and looked up at me. "So, tell me, Massey, how do you feel?"

I laughed. "Are we really beginning with this question?"

"It's a simple question, yes, but every great journey starts with a single step, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "I feel...tired. Like I want to go back to sleep."

"Did you not sleep too well last night?"

"Well, honestly I find it a little hard to sleep when I haven't had sacrificed a sheep to the gods for a while. It's quite relaxing, actually. Like a sedative."

"Is there a reason you aren't sacrificing sheep anymore? I mean, besides the fact that you saw fit to try and kill yourself instead?" She paused in light of my reaction. "I can't help you if you're not going to take this seriously. I've seen a lot of girls come through here, just like you, who think they have it all figured out and by the time they hit their next bump in the road, they're slitting their wrists again...and _not_ being found just in the nick of time by their mother."

"I didn't try to kill myself." She didn't look convinced but I hadn't expected her to. As long as she thought I wasn't serious, I saw no harm in throwing out the beginnings of my craziest justification. "I know that's something everyone has said to you but I really didn't."

"Are you saying it was an accident?"

"No," I said, although I admitted to myself it would have been easier to do so, "I never harmed myself, intentionally or accidentally. I don't even like to look when I'm shaving my legs. How in world do you think I could do _this_ to myself?" I asked, pulling up the sleeves of my shirt and displaying her my bandaged wrists.

"People lose themselves in depression, Massey, develop completely different personalities. Someone who never liked taking medication can become a serial pill popper at their lowest point."

"I make six figures a year, Dr. Tosh. I made partner at the most prestigious law firm in Michigan at twenty-seven. _Twenty-seven_," I repeated slower so she'd grasp the pride I still had in that achievement, "and I'm sure I've done more at twenty-nine than most people will get to do their entire life. I have no reason to not want to be me or to want to cut my time being me short."

"What does May 13th mean to you, Massey?"

I didn't realize I was smiling in all my smugness until I felt it drop from my face. I could barely lift my head to look at her though I felt her waiting for me to answer, just so that she could point out how vulnerable I still was despite my attitude. "Your twin sister Maureen, she was killed that day fourteen years ago, wasn't she?"

I didn't need her to remind me. I thought about her and it everyday. I could still see the doctor walking out to my family, shaking his head, and repeating 'I'm sorry' when my mom refused to believe that one of her daughters was dead at fifteen. I could have killed Trent Castlewater that moment and often times I still wished I had.

"What does Maureen have to do with this?" I finally asked.

"According to your hospital records, it was day you tried to join her."

I know my face showed that I clearly hadn't connected the incident with that date and I almost felt like I should dispute it even though I had a feeling it was pointless to. "I miss my sister more than anyone will ever know but I've had fourteen years of pain to drive me into a suicidal tizzy. Why would I choose this point in my life where everything is going great to act on it?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Massey, but we're going to find out. Together."


End file.
